|
Crimson flames tied through my years |
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Rollin' high and mighty trapped |
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Countless violent flaming roads |
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Using ideas as my map |
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"We'll meet on edges soon," said I |
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Proud 'neath heated brow |
|
Ahh, but I was so much older then |
|
I'm younger than that now |
|
Half wracked prejudice leaped forth |
|
"Rip down all hate," I screamed |
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Lies that life is black and white |
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Spoke from my skull, I dreamed |
|
Romantic flanks of musketeers |
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Foundation deep, somehow |
|
Ahh, but I was so much older then |
|
I'm younger than that now |
|
In a soldier's stance, I aimed my hand |
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At the mongrel dogs who teach |
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Fearing not I'd become my enemy |
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In the instant that I preach |
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Sisters fled by confusion boats |
|
Mutiny from stern to bow |
|
Ahh, but I was so much older then |
|
I'm younger than that now |
|
Ahh, but I was so much older then |
|
I'm younger than that now |
|
My guard stood hard when abstract threats |
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Too noble to neglect |
|
Deceived me into thinking |
|
I had something to protect |
|
Good and bad, I define these terms |
|
Quite clear, no doubt, somehow |
|
Ahh, but I was so much older then |
|
I'm younger than that now |
